Poems by T. S. Anand

Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού

To “Brown” Lady 

The old patched boat
nearing the harbour
shaken by the storm
raging in eastern  skies
causing convulsions
in different directions
straining and complaining
at the vagaries of
tremors unleashed
in the voids of being.

Familiar sensations
undying agitation
long forgotten faces
romantic traces
familiar visitations
causing turmoil
in withering pulsations.

A new visitation
engaging  conversations
igniting embers
in  dying flames
of awakened emotions
universal connections
moored in cerebral relations
of loving equations
geographical  locations
varying denominations
speaking in  syllables
of loving demarcations,
saying, not confessing
sealing  the lips
concealing blips
artful flips
to unlock
the fasteners
of  sacred bonds
too sacred
to breach.

What to say
what to conceal
in emotional turmoils
what to reveal,
the sudden gaps
in communication
the desire to connect
amidst alienation
drives to frenzied
roads not taken
oaths broken
ties forsaken
to savour the beauty
of ruptured relation
eternally calling
for reconnections.

Like prisoners
of perceptions

of self induced deceptions
caught in the web
of dilemmas
to mind or ignore
the rhythmic pulsations
propelling the unsaid
to deep contemplation
or enacting peculiarities
unworthy of situations,
to be or not to be
to live or cease to be
to rupture or retain
the sacred filament
of filial terrain.

Confessions of aversions
to beats of heart
missed over years
from loving and dears
in conjugal bliss
sans feelings, sans kiss
in emotional turmoils,
figuring out
the missing links
in the romantic narrative
a frenzied loving phase
prelude to
the propitious arrival
of a lump of flesh
waves of joys
cementing ties
amidst shrill cries.

A new equation
sans obligations
sans emotions
emerging frustrations
playing tantrums
over miscarried gratifications
of parched pavilions
beckoning resuscitation
like an unsatiated soul
sourly waiting
for drops of elixir.

Vacillating moods
causing tremors
in zones of respectability,
an inner urge
goading to rupture
the veneer of grace
leaving no trace
of violated space
into regions of beauty
on unfathomed liberty,
songs of silence
emanating from trembling lips.

Like rain on parched land
of sighs and sobs
of elusive bliss
and many a miss
to remain adrift
in swamps of dilemmas
singeing the untapped fertile land
panting for release
of bridled desires
smouldering fires
in a brown frame.

As brown turns black
on swings of bliss
in moments of glory
so sacred so hoary
fraught with love
so charming so gory
an eternal story
of loss and pain
that has been
  may be again
to tie us all
to common destiny.

Masquerade
Peace  passes understanding
plays hide and seek
to wreak vengeance
upon geeks and freaks
measuring the past
in losses or gains
being averse
to Time’s train
that rolls on
to distant pavillions
beckoning gates
of  fleeting visions
offering no respite
to myriad confusions.

Swings away
from ethereal regions
tow me back
to real origins
familiar terrains
as dears depart
tugs at heart
gone unsung
gone in infancy
gone unwed
gone too young
leaving a trail
of blissful times
eternally archived
in turbulent mind.

Muffled groans emanate
from convalescent bed
as life oozes out
drip by drip
body convulses
heartbeats skip
machine trips
bp dips,
closed eyes presage
tearful eyes
downcast faces
of the near and dear
zeroed in on you
from far and near
as flimsy thread hangs
between here and there.

The winsome smile
a  face sans guile
a lovely soul
of  modest grace
drowning  pals
in deep grief
as you inch homeward
with sense of relief
being loving and kind
to the purblind
who caressed
the  margins
of stressful life
saturated with pangs
of loneliness and pain.

Apparition

An apparition drenches
voids of being
eyes moist
blur the vision.
Grim reminder of
waning faculties,
an invitation from
forgotten entity
waiting since decades
for conjugal felicity,
or the dear departed
hoping for words
of gratitude
to flow its way,
an invisible presence
beckoning sans words
craving for touch,
Or a  deity
awaiting propitiation
or retribution,
or the alter ego
seeking recompense.

Why haunt the one
loved and shunted
trusted and dumped
used and  abandoned
like a sanitary pad
in garbage bin?

Waiting
Breathing and blooming
in secure embryo
and waiting to go
in the nasty world
of sharks and thugs,
carrying pristine innocence
of heavenly bliss.

Nurturing the lump of flesh
into a wayward youth
on amorous merry-go-rounds
of beauteous grace
in marital bliss,
as mom prays for addition
to shrinking lineage.

Like a hibernating stream
the politician returns
to caress the margins
of the marginalised
season with crumbs
to fill the bellies
of underfed children
battling malnutrition
since generations.

The old man battling
the scourges of decades
of wobbling tongue
and shaking frame
memory abandoning
vision threatening
faculties spinning
dears cribbing
spasm and coughing,
waiting to return
the home abandoned.

Let us not wait
the divine windfall
who knows it may be
furies of squalls
falling unawares
on singeing souls
waiting for ordeal
by the fire
that sealed alliances
with chants of mantras.

Locked in filial bonds
of deluded bliss
sans warm touch
or balmy kiss
for public consumption
to camouflage truth
of dicey deceptions
of broken commands
and shady transactions
hallowed by dubious
macho perceptions.

Waiting for a messiah
to bear our sins
to rouse slumbering conscience
through pricks and pins,
inundate arid zones
with fecund rains
dress the bruises
of agonising minds
praying for release
into abodes of bliss
sans abuses
sans subterfuges
perpetrated since long
on minds and souls.

O Lord,
I often pray
Seek no boons
or earthy gains,
I’ve reached now
a forked road,
go ahead as ordained?
or the other extreme
that shows no beams
or go the road
less frequented
meandering through bushes
of thorny twigs
that hang about
full of wrath
cautioning against
circuitous paths?

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